Kind of Purple
by hushedgreylily
Summary: The one time not staying in the car nearly cost late-season-2 Castle and Beckett everything. And everything is kind of purple. Oneshot. Caskett.


_**I was doing some spring cleaning and came across some notepads where I'd planned and drafted lots of fanfiction, a long time ago. And most of it was incomplete, and I'd lost that spark of passion for that fandom/pairing/style of writing, so nothing came of it. But this piece, this piece made me wish I'd published it then. And then Cops and Robbers was repeating on my TV today, and I remembered why I fell in love with the show. So I edited this, and present it to you now.**_

 _ **Written somewhere near the end of season 2, good old-fashioned one-of-them-gets-shot-and-everything-changes.**_

* * *

 _ **KIND OF PURPLE**_

"Beckett."

"It's Ryan."

"Oh, thank God." Beckett sighs from the bathroom of the expensive Spanish restaurant, "You are saving me from the dull blind date Lanie set me up wi-"

"Beckett… Kate, Castle's been shot."

The phone clatters into the sink.

* * *

Where Richard Castle is right now, things are kind of purple. Which is strange, because every time he's ever written someone's dramatic death sequence things were either white or black, one or the other. But no, there are varying shades of purple, and he feels like he's possibly tripping. There's something nagging in the back of his mind, though. A pain in his chest. A slight trembling of his fingers. A vague memory, a shot to the chest, something warm slipping through his fingers. He could half imagine Beckett right now – Beckett. That's what's missing.

* * *

She arrives at the hospital, hands shaking, heart thumping. Ryan and Esposito sit in the waiting room, heads in their hands, and she wants more than anything to kick their asses for letting this happen, but she can't even think. There's a doctor walking towards her colleagues and she intercepts him fearlessly, eyes blazing.

"What's happening?"  
"Mr Castle is in surgery, but I can't divulge any information to you unless-"

"I'm family." She deadpans, making Esposito look up. The doctor sighs.

"The bullet's lodged near his hepatic artery, Ms -?"

"Beckett."

"Ms Beckett. We're doing everything we can."

Her world is spinning. "His mother and daughter are out of town-"

"Call them home." The doctor nods. Beckett's heart falls.

* * *

Everything starts slipping into place, then. He's been shot, at a scene with Ryan and Esposito, whilst Beckett was on a date with someone Lanie had met at a medical convention. He wasn't threatened, he'd been at the Precinct when the guy had turned up to pick up Beckett, and he'd been half a foot shorter than her with a slight lisp. He'd laughed as she'd rolled her eyes and walked away.

But surely Beckett should be here? His heart stutters. Beckett, Alexis, his mother. Shouldn't he be with them, not in this weird purple world? He swallows. He was shot. He was alone.

Richard Castle knows in that moment that he's not ready to die.

* * *

She knows it should come from her, but she can't breathe, so she asks Esposito to call Martha and Alexis. She sits a few seats away from the others, clenching and unclenching her firsts, and thinking in riddles, thinking in prayers.

Her mother, the child they lost on her first case with Will Sorenson, every victim where she hadn't been able to close the case – she couldn't add Castle to that list.

"What happened?" she spits at Ryan, and he looks at her tentatively.

"Castle…. Castle was supposed to stay in the car-"

"Castle never stays in the-"

"Beckett, no one could have foreseen it, the guy came out of nowhere, he couldn't-"

"He shouldn't have to!" she hisses, eyes flashing. "You should have kept him safe…"

Ryan has nothing to say, just responds with _pain_ in his eyes.

"I should have been there." She breathes.

* * *

He tries to make some sense of it all, but everything's too blurred.

Instead, he finds himself thinking about all the things he hadn't had a chance to do yet.

Walk Alexis down the aisle, go to her graduation, see her have children of her own. Not in that order, necessarily.

See Heat Wave, Storm Fall or something he'd written turned into a movie.

Help Beckett find the sons of bitches that ordered her mother's death.

Take Beckett dancing. Dance with Alexis at her wedding. Watch Martha open something massive on Broadway.

Kiss Beckett to shut her up in the middle of an argument.

Take all three of them; Martha, Alexis and Beckett to Europe – take Martha to the Russian Opera, Alexis to the Louvre, the Musee de Arte, the Tower of London, the Coliseum… wherever she wanted. Take Beckett up the Eiffel Tower at night, hold her hand, tell her how he feels about her… make her do that scintillating Russian accent in the confines of their Venice hotel room…

Too much is incomplete for it to all be over, and that hurts.

But the purple is starting to fade, and everything is getting clearer...

* * *

"Ms Beckett?"

Her eyes snap open; she's passed out from sheer exhaustion on one of the cold plastic chairs. It's been eleven hours, Ryan and Esposito have been gone for four, Martha and Alexis should be here in two...

"Mr Castle's out of surgery. On entrance, the bullet did some severe damage to both his liver and small intestine, but nothing that we couldn't repair… and its position was very fragile, but we managed not to rupture the hepatic artery… he was very lucky."

She can't speak.

"He's going to be fine, Ms Beckett." The young doctor smiles, "Would you like to see him?"

"Could I?" her voice is shaky. She doesn't quite sound like herself.

"He's slowly waking up as we speak."

She follows the doctor through, and it's not until she sees him, lying there, that she realises tears have been freefalling from her eyes for minutes. She sits in the chair beside his bed and almost shyly wraps her fingers around his hand. The door closes behind the doctor, but he hangs back, standing in the doorway.

"Hey, Castle." She breathes, stroking her thumb over the back of his hand, willing his eyes to open. "I am so mad at you for not staying in the car."

She finds her shoulder shaking slightly, and closes her eyes for a moment to fight off hysteria.

"Beckett…" she hears his murmur, and her eyes fly open, but his remain closed, his lips moving slowly over her name.

"I'm here." She manages to choke, squeezing his fingers, "Right here."

His eyelids flutter open, and he frowns slightly as his eyes adjust to the light.

"I was having a really good dream…"

* * *

She's here, his detective, but she's crying, and that's not right. She's saying something, something about Martha and Alexis being on their way, something about Ryan and Esposito. She smiles slightly through her tears, never letting go of his hand.

"I always told you to stay in the car." She half whispers, and he tries to laugh, but pain shoots through him, so he squeezes her fingers instead. It's then he realises she's wearing a dark blue cocktail dress, and faux diamonds in her ears. (He'd like to buy her real diamonds, he thinks, as his mind ticks over why she's dressed that way).

"How was your date?"

She turns up her nose. "God-awful."

"Good." He murmurs, and she gets that strange look on her face. But before he can elaborate, the doctor is saying something about running tests and him getting rest, and Beckett leans forward and looks as if she's about to kiss him on the cheek before smiling.

"I'll see you tomorrow, Castle. Hang in there."

He catches her hand before she can move away.

"Kate?"

Her heart always thuds when he calls her by her first name.

"Yes?"

"Will you come to Europe with me?"

* * *

The next day, when she walks into his room, Alexis and Martha have just left. She walks right up to his bed – he's sitting up now – and slaps him. He blinks at her as she steps back.

"What was that for?"

"Getting out of the car. Getting yourself shot. Would it hurt you to follow orders for once?" She's almost yelling, suddenly, everything exploding within her. Castle smiles.

"I thought it was too good to be true yesterday – I thought you let me off the hook."

She sinks into the bed in front of him. "I thought you were going to die, Castle."

She hates it, but her eyes are full. He takes her hand slowly, lacing fingers through hers. "Do you have any idea how much paperwork that would mean?" she chokes, stumbling on the last few words.

He laughs then, but she sees the pain flicker across his features and he forces it down - hides it, for her.

There's a full silence, and then, without even thinking, she leans forward and matches her lips to his.

For a moment neither of them move, two sets of eyes closed, two hearts pounding.

Then she feels a hand – his non IV arm – cupping the side of her face and his lips part slowly.

* * *

Mary, Mother of God, she tastes like cherries too. Cherries, and coffee, and something slightly more. The moment her tongue comes into contact with his he wonders if he hadn't ruptured something overnight, died and gone to heaven, because this is out of this world.

She pulls back gently, resting her forehead against his, still not meeting his eyes.

"What was _that_ for?" he manages, and when her eyes meet his she gives him such an innocent, honest smile he feels a lump form in his throat.

"For surviving."

 **Fin**

 **That's a wrap! Let me know, Castle fans, what you think – I know you're still out there! If you're nice enough I might dip back into writing Castle - I thought with my post-finale piece it was all over, but I've fallen in love with the show (or at least the first 5 seasons of the show) all over again!**


End file.
